Earning the Love of a Princess-Chapter 173: Patience is a Virtue

William was nearly at the banquet hall when he heard a familiar voice calling out to him. He turned to see Camilla’s ladies approaching.

He smiled, feeling pathetically happy they were speaking to him again after days of ignoring him.

"Your Grace." Lady Taunsen bowed. "We just wished to tell you that the princess is in labour now."

William quickly stopped smiling. "Oh. What does that mean? Is the baby about to be born?"

"Well, not right now. But likely within the next day or so."

William nodded blankly at the three women, who just stared back. There wasn’t a trace of friendliness on any of their faces.

He gulped. "Then what am I supposed to do? Do I go to the apartments and wait?"

Lady Taunsen shook her head. "You don’t have to do anything, my lord. The midwives will send out a message when it’s all over."

"Don’t worry. Her Grace knows better than to expect your presence, my lord." Lady Katerine hissed under her breath.

William felt like he’d been punched by his wife’s youngest and mildest lady-in-waiting. He must have erred badly if even Lady Katerine was angry at him.

Without another word, the ladies bowed and started heading down the corridor.

"Wait!" William called out after them. "Aren’t you joining everyone for dinner?"

Lady Meg glanced briefly at him as they walked away. "We’re going to the chapel to pray first. For the princess’s health and that of her baby."

Her baby.

The significance of the words weren’t lost on William. It was as if the child belonged only to Camilla and he had nothing to do with it.

To be fair, he’d shown absolutely no interest.

William walked into the banquet hall and took his seat at the high table. He stared straight ahead and refused to even glance at Camilla’s empty chair next to him. Looking at it was curiously painful.

He was vaguely aware of the occasional person speaking to him but he just nodded absently or blanked them out completely. It wasn’t until he heard his name barked in his ear that William snapped to attention.

Leo was leaning over his shoulder, frowning. "You alright, Will? You look fucking awful."

Leo’s subtlety never fails, William thought to himself. Out loud, he replied, "I’ve been told Camilla’s in labour. I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do."

"Nothing." Leo’s voice was firm. "You do nothing but wait until news is brought to you. Hopefully good news."

"But...that doesn’t seem right. To leave her alone through that-"

"She won’t be alone. She’ll have the royal midwives with her." Leo assured him gruffly. "Likely the same women that attended to Violet for all her births. Foul tempered old crones, if I remember right, but they knew what had to be done."

William felt uneasy with his cousin’s explanation. "Still, though. Don’t you think I should still be there in case I can help-?"

"Ugh! Absolutely not!" Leo was scowling now. "Childbearing is women’s business. Don’t involve yourself at all! You really want to hear all the crying and screaming, and see blood for hours on end?"

William paled. "It sounds like a fucking massacre. You’re exaggerating, aren’t you?"

Without waiting for a response, William stood up and bowed hastily to the king and queen. He then ran out of the hall and towards the southern wing.

- - -

William had been in the corridor outside their apartments for what felt like hours, pacing nervously or simply sitting on the stone floor. The presence chamber doors remained firmly shut and he wasn’t sure whether knocking or just entering would be a good idea.

At that moment, a young maid came out with a handful on empty vials. She looked startled as she saw William scramble to his feet.

"Is everything alright? Is the birth over? How is my wife?" he demanded.

The woman eyed him flatly. "Not yet, my lord. I don’t think it’ll be over for quite a while yet."

"But is she well? Is everything happening as it should?" William wanted to shake the maid for answers.

She shrugged with disinterest. "It appears to be." She then stepped around him and hurried down the corridor.

William slumped to the floor again.

A while later, the doors swung open again. When they did, William could hear faint but unmistakable screams coming from inside the apartments.

He nearly leapt at the maid coming out, who was carrying a large bundle of linen. All of it blood soaked. William gasped in shock.

"What the hell is happening to my wife?"

The maid shook her head in fright. "It’s just a hard birth, Your Grace." She quickly pulled the door shut behind her to muffle the screams.

"Open the door. I’m going inside." William ordered.

The maid looked horrified. "No, Your Grace! Men aren’t supposed to go in the-"

"If you’re not going to open the door, then at least get out of my fucking way before I push you aside." William bit out.

The maid quickly stepped out of the way and William entered the presence chamber. When he reached the bedchamber door, he hesitated for a moment, before pushing it open and stepping into the room.

The first thing that William noticed was the sweltering heat. He began to sweat almost instantly. The thick tapestry was still hanging over the window. The only light was provided by wall sconces, candles and a roaring fire, which cast an eerie, orange glow over everything.

There were half a dozen unfamiliar women in front of him, some sitting in chairs that had been dragged in from the presence chamber and others just milling around and laughing amongst themselves. Dinner had already been served and eaten, judging by the scattering of dirty plates everywhere.

William’s eyes darted around nervously, trying to take in the chaotic, almost hellish scene before him. Then he saw his wife and the shock almost floored him.

Camilla was lying on the bed in only her damp chemise, shaking with what he assumed was fear. Apart from two red, feverish looking spots on her cheeks, her face was drained of all colour. Her chemise had been hiked to to mid thigh, revealing the blood streaks on her legs.

Most terrifying of all was the enormous bloodstain on the sheets beneath her. If she lost any more blood, how was she ever going to survive?

William was jolted from his panicked thoughts by the shrieks of the midwives. He felt several pairs of eyes looking at him in astonishment.

Including Camilla’s.

"Your Highness! What are you doing here?" one of the women shouted.

"I, uh, well... I was waiting for news in the corridor. And I wanted...to make sure that everything was alright." William tripped through his words, very aware he was somewhere where no one wanted him.

"Everything is fine! Her Grace’s labour is progressing as expected, but you can’t expect it to all be over in a matter of hours!" the old woman snapped at him, clearly furious at his presence. "Now that you’ve seen your wife is perfectly well, I must humbly request you to leave. Childbed is no place for men!"

It was definitely more of an order instead of a humble request.

William looked at Camilla again. Perfectly well? She certainly didn’t appear that way to him. She look very young and frightened, clutching onto fistfuls of the bedsheets with white knuckles.

No one seemed to be paying much attention to her either, given the way he’d found the midwives clustered amongst themselves, sipping ale and gossiping.

He glanced around the stifling room again, recognising no one.

"Why aren’t your ladies-in-waiting here?" William asked his wife. Given how close the four young women were, he was surprised they weren’t in the room with her.

Before Camilla could reply however, a sour looking crone butted in. "Those ladies had to be forcefully ejected. Commoners may not be in the room during a royal birth."

William screwed up his face in dismay. "So my wife has to go through all this surrounded by strangers?"

Several of the women looked outraged. But before anyone could reply, they were all startled by a shrill little cry from the bed.

William watched in horror as Camilla arched on the bed, rigid with pain, and clawed at the sheets. By the way she was biting her lip, she was obviously trying to muffle her screams. After a few seconds, she fell limply back and closed her eyes.

One of the women shushed her, then went back to glaring at William. "Please leave now, my lord. You’re distracting us from caring for your wife."

"What care?" he growled back. "All I see right now is neglect!"

"We’re the most experienced midwives in Islia! We’ve delivered many royal babes!" the eldest crone was prickly in her pride. "Now for the last time, we must insist you-"

"I’m not leaving her here alone with you!"

The midwives all exchanged frustrated looks. "What do you plan to do here then, Your Grace?"

William looked at the floor and mumbled, "I don’t know. I just thought...well, maybe I could help."

His face grew hot at the women’s laughter.

"You, my lord?" one of them shrieked. "And what exactly would you do to make out task easier? What do you know about childbirth?"

"I know nothing about it." William admitted, eyeing them all. "But I also know I’m not leaving my wife here to suffer alone."

Pushing the hair out of his eyes anxiously, he turned to Camilla, who was staring at him as if he’d just suggested the two of them leap out a window head first. The final word was solely hers.

"Can I stay?" he asked hesitantly, pleading with his eyes.